Page 44 of Smokey's Distraction
“That’s bullshit!” The police chief’s desk shook under Smokey’s fist.
“For fuck’s sake—the woman said he touched her too.” Landon scrubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t have a choice this time.”
“I don’t believe it. There’s no way he did that. The chick’s lying.”
“She was pretty adamant about it.”
“What the fuck does the charge mean? Will he have to register?” Dread snaked its way through his body at the thought of Ryan on the sex offender list. Of course he didn’t condone what his brother had done, but SmokeyknewRyan hadn’t touched anyone. Yeah, the dude was screwed up big-time—a lasting gift from their bastard father—but he’d never accost a woman.
Landon slowly nodded. “His name will be entered into the Colorado Bureau of Investigation’s Sex Offender Registry. The charge will be a misdemeanor, so his name won’t be searchable by the public. If he keeps doing this shit, though, he’ll be looking at a felony down the road. I’ll explain the situation to the DA and tell ’em to go easy on him. But the prosecutor may decide to add a charge for touching the victim. I’ll argue against it, but I don’t have a lot of say on what the DA’s office does.”
“Who’s this chick?”
“You know I can’t tell you that.”
“Maybe she’s making up shit about him. Could be someone out to get me.” Even as Smokey said the words, he knew he was grasping at straws. This time, he couldn’t get Ryan out of the mess he’d created.Fuck!
“I don’t think so,” Landon said in a low voice.
Smokey rose to his feet. “Don’t arrest him. I’ll make sure his ass is in court.”
“Okay. I’ll just issue a summons. I can call and let you know the date for the arraignment.”
Smokey tipped his head.
“I don’t want to do this, but I don’t have much of a choice,” Landon said.
Without answering, Smokey walked out of the office. Once outside, he slid on his shades to dull the sun’s rays reflecting off the windows of the buildings around him.
The snow from the week before had finally started to melt away from the day’s heat. Locals were used to the dramatic shifts in weather during the spring months in Pinewood Springs.
Swinging a leg over his black and silver Harley Davidson, he revved the engine, enjoying the disapproving looks several passersby threw his way. He wished someone would say something so he’d have an excuse to hand out an ass whoopin’ to curb the molten anger flowing through him, but no one said a word.The patch on the back of his cut spoke volumes. Looking over his shoulder, he pulled away from the curb and headed toward the clubhouse.
When he pulled into the lot, he saw Animal, Klutch, and Helm smoking by the club’s front entrance.
“You look pissed as hell,” Animal said, offering Smokey a joint.
He pinched the spliff between his fingers as he took out a lighter. “I am.”
“What’s goin’ on?” Helm asked.
Smokey inhaled deeply, then blew out a stream of smoke before flicking the ash to the ground. “Chief Fuckin’ Landon won’t give Ryan a break. Ungrateful sonofabitch.”
“You can never trust a damn badge,” Animal said.
At best, the Insurgents had a tenuous relationship with the local law enforcement. Ever since the emergence of the Insurgents in the 1970s, the badges had been trying to shut them down, but to no avail.
When Landon rose in the ranks to Chief of Police, he approached Banger and Hawk with a tacit agreement: his department would look the other way if the MC kept hard drugs out of the county. The outlaw bikers were fine with the agreement, because there was no way they were going to let anyone make money off illegal activities ontheirturf. The understanding worked for the most part, but it didn’t mean the MC trusted the badges.
“What the hell did Ryan do again?” Klutch asked.
Smokey brought the joint to his lips. “The same shit he always does, acting like a damn pussy. He flashed some chick who says he touched her, but I know that’s bullshit. Landon wouldn’t tell me who she is, though.”
“Shit, dude. The damn badges always fuck up.” Throwing the spent joint on the ground, Klutch snubbed it out with the heel of his boot.
“Yeah. I’m gonna call Cara and see if she can help or something.” Running a hand through his hair, he groaned. “What a fuckin’ mess.”
“It’s a good thing Hawk’s old lady is a defense attorney,” Animal said.
